


Over Me

by NuclearNik



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Morning Sex, Multi, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 11:10:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20777609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NuclearNik/pseuds/NuclearNik
Summary: Hermione is a witch with a plan to bed her favourite Aurors, and she’s determined to follow through.





	Over Me

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:**  
8\. Sleepy/Morning Sex
> 
> All the beta and alpha love to Roryegg and LadyKenz for their fabulous feedback and support. They are amazing.

_Click-clack, click-clack_

Hermione's heels made her approach down the hallway of St. Mungo's second floor less than stealthy.

The two figures ahead of her turned at the sound as it echoed off the tile floor.

"Fancy meeting you here, gentlemen."

"Hullo, miss. Aurors Potter and Malfoy, at your service." Harry and Malfoy doffed imaginary hats and bowed deeply, pulling an embarrassingly girlish giggle from Hermione.

Her job as a children's advocate often brought her to the hospital to meet with needy and injured children, and every once in a while, she ran into the boys when they were on assignment.

After dispensing a quick hug to each of them, Hermione let them escort her down the hall to the front doors. Harry and Draco walked on either side of her, as they always did, almost as if they were _ protecting her _ from harm. She found it rather sweet, if not a bit ridiculous.

"What brought you here this time, Harry?"

"We're working a particularly nasty case, and a victim of our fugitive was injured and hospitalized. Had to get his statement."

"Oh, dear. I do hope he's alright."

"He'll live. Just gives us even more reason to catch this fucker," Draco said.

Harry shot him a scandalized look over Hermione's head. "Now, now, Malfoy. Such language. Where are your debutant manners?"

"Sod off, Potter." Draco followed his words with a crude gesture that made Hermione laugh.

She never thought she'd see the day when Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter got along, but she had been wrong.

When Ron had dropped out of Auror training because he felt compelled to be there for George, to support him and help him with the joke shop, Harry had gotten closer to another trainee—Malfoy. When they completed their training and began working for the Ministry, they'd been partnered up and had swiftly grown close. Harry said that there are just some things that can’t help but bring people together—chasing evil people and having near misses with death is one of them.

Honestly, Hermione was grateful. With how busy she was with her career and volunteer work, she felt that she was sometimes a poor friend to Harry. She had not always been able to be there for him right after the war when she had worried he would need her the most. Turned out that Malfoy's demons weren't that far off from Harry's. He'd done wrong, he'd been a vile bully and eventually a soldier for the dark side, but he'd also been a kid. A teenager, just like the rest of them, forced into growing up far too soon and facing the cruel realities of life and death.

Harry bumped her gently with his shoulder, pulling her back to the present. "It's Friday," he sang the words. "Come out with us, 'Mione. It's been forever. You could use some loosening up."

Hermione gasped in mock outrage. "How dare you imply that I am uptight, Mr. Potter. I'm the most easy-going person you know."

Both men laughed at this—a little too hard if you asked her. It wasn't _that _funny.

"I'll even buy you a drink. What do you say, Granger?" Malfoy said.

"Make it two, and you have a deal. But I have to stop off at the office first, and then home to feed Crooks. I'll meet you there. Eight o'clock sound alright?"

"It's a date." The smirk on Draco's face gave Hermione reason to worry. One never knew what that smarmy, sneaky prat was up to.

The words, though said playfully, made her heart skip a beat.

_ A date. _

She'd deny it if anyone asked, but Hermione had been eyeing Harry and Draco for a while now. They were both gorgeous, and she wasn't blind.

"Go on then! Leave me be. I will see you gentleman later," Hermione said with a robust eyebrow wiggle. They chuckled and let her go.

* * *

When Hermione pushed open the door to her flat, she heard a disgruntled _ meow_. 

Kicking off her heels and slipping out of her stockings, Hermione let out a groan of relief when her toes were freed from the confines of faux suede and pantyhose. She bent down to rub her instep and said, "I know, my fussy little chunk. Just a minute, okay?"

When she'd finished with Crooks' dinner, she propped a hip against the counter and closed her eyes, revelling in the quiet after a busy day. 

A chiming drew Hermione's attention to the Black Forest cuckoo clock hanging on her wall—a piece of her childhood home that her parents gifted to her. _ Oh, bollocks. _ She'd better hurry and get ready, or she'd be late meeting the boys.

Heading to her bedroom, Hermione pulled open the wardrobe and started tossing things behind her and onto the bed. Tonight she wanted to dress up just a bit, put a little effort in. 

She'd chosen to steadfastly ignore the annoying inner voice that was telling her why, exactly, she wanted to go the extra mile with her appearance. She'd never been one to care much about frippery and beauty routines, and Harry—of all people—is someone she's always been able to be herself around. He'd seen her at her very worst: malnourished, dirty, and scuffed up. There wasn't a lot of privacy when you were living in a tent on the run. But tonight felt as if it held promise, and Hermione decided that she would be a fool to disregard her instinct. 

She'd been ignoring the sexual tension between herself and the boys for weeks now. Her friendship with Harry was one of the most important things in her life, and her newfound friendship with Malfoy was just blossoming. Acknowledging that there might be more to it was a risk.

Harry had been her first, and she had been his. On the run and hunting for Horcruxes, they were two scared, lonely teenagers seeking solace in each other. They'd continued to come together in the weeks when Ron was gone, and by the time he returned, there were far more pressing things to worry about. They set it aside and didn't speak of it. 

When the war ended, and they were all trying to find their new normal, Harry and Hermione defaulted back to being undeniably close friends, giving each other support and leaving their time as lovers behind as a sweet memory.

Hermione, however, had never really been satisfied with that, but she so badly didn't want to make mistakes and end up sacrificing her friendship with Harry who'd been family to her as long as she could remember. Not to mention, there was the matter of Ginny and Harry figuring out who they were to each other when the fighting had finally ended, and Hermione would never have gotten in their way. It ended up being similar to the situation Hermione and Ron found themselves in—they'd all needed to work it out on their own. And they did, both couples realizing they were far better friends than lovers. 

Ginny was dating a witch from the Harpies and seemed to be utterly ass over tea kettle for her. Ron had spent the last few years dating around and enjoying the single life. At first, he very thoughtfully tried to keep his activities on the down-low. Hermione had to sit him down and explain to him that she appreciated the thought, but he didn't need to hide his dating life from her. She wanted him to see happy, no matter what had happened between them. 

He wasn't hers, she wasn't his, and that was okay. 

And those feelings Hermione had for Harry? She let them go and sought her pleasure elsewhere. She was a grown woman with a healthy, active sex life that she was not ashamed of. She'd been doing pretty well, dating and having the occasional one-night stand, and completely resisting her attraction to Harry Potter.

Then Malfoy came into the mix. He was downright delicious and damn near irresistible. A no-feelings fling certainly couldn't hurt, right? They didn't work together, there was no conflict of interest. 

But when she saw Harry and Malfoy together, when she saw how well they worked together doing something as a team, a plan started to form in her mind. 

Surely that meant they'd work well together doing _ her _ as a team.

She spent a lot of time with the two of them, and her regular friend group had gotten downright cordial with Malfoy over time. Hannah Abbot even hosted game nights at hers and Neville's flat, and the whole gang would come over to drink and play Scrabble and Exploding Snap. 

No matter where they were or who they were with, she managed to always end up tucked between Harry and Malfoy in a long string of Hermione-orchestrated incidents. She'd brush her fingers over Harry's knee, lean in to whisper some little joke rather seductively—she hoped—in Malfoy's ear.

They had to have been getting the hints, she really hadn't been subtle. So when they invited her out, she decided tonight was the night. She'd lay her cards on the table and see how they reacted.

"Aha!"

She _ finally _found the jeans she wanted—the ones that made her arse positively pop—piled in a heap at the bottom of the wardrobe. All that was left was to shimmy into a sparkly blouse and swipe on some lipstick. Hermione decided to let her hair do what it wanted. She wouldn't hide the parts of herself that made her who she is. Accept her—warts and all—or leave. 

With a kiss blown in Crooks' direction, she headed out the door and into the night.

* * *

On any given Friday night, Diagon Alley was teeming with people, and this night was no exception. Hermione felt a thrum in her chest, energized by the exciting atmosphere. 

As she passed by Flourish and Blotts, a book in the window caught her eye. She stared longingly through the glass before glancing at her watch, deciding she had just enough time to take a quick peek.

Hermione walked in, the door chime tinkling gently behind her. She stopped for a moment at the entrance, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. She would never tire of the smell of books.

The book she'd seen displayed in the window was a new edition of _ Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_, and she knew just where it could be found. She headed to the far back corner of the shop, running her fingers gently along the spines of books as she searched for the one she was looking for.

Though the Alley was bustling, the book shop was rather quiet, with most of the crowd spread out between the restaurants and pubs. Hermione found a spot on the floor in the _ Magical Histories _ section, tucked away and perfect for skimming the book she'd seen.

Skimming turned to reading, and soon Hermione was lost to the magic of words with a book in her lap and several stacked on the floor beside her. She wasn't sure how much time had passed when scuffed black boots came into her line of vision. She traced her gaze over muscular thighs and trim hips, all the way up to a face with pretty green eyes and messy hair.

_ Harry_.

"There you are. I knew I'd find you here. We did have a date, you know," he said with a lopsided grin on his face. 

"Oh, no! Oh, I'm sorry, Harry. I don't know what got into me. I saw this book in the window," she gestured to the thick tome propped on top of her crossed legs, "and I'd been having such a difficult time finding it anywhere, so I came in to buy it. But then I found more and, well, I'm sorry."

Harry chuckled at her, extending a hand to help her up from the floor. "It's alright, 'Mione. Malfoy and I should have known this would happen. We're the ones who foolishly picked a location that would bring you directly in front of the bookstore. Rookie mistake," he winked at her.

Hermione sent the books floating back from whence they came, snagging the one she'd seen in the window. "I'll be just a minute, I promise!" she said, speed-walking to the checkout. Harry chuckled and followed behind her.

She went to pay for her book, digging in her pocketbook for her money. Before she was able to pull it out, Harry, who was so close to her back that she could feel the warmth of his body, handed the teenage girl behind the till money for the book. "No, no. I very much appreciate the thought, Harry, but I'm perfectly capable of paying for it on my own."

Harry brought his mouth close to her ear. "Yes, love. I'm aware. Let me do something nice for you." When she prepared to argue once more, he pressed even closer to her. "Please?"

She couldn't say no to Harry when he asked so sweetly. And really, she'd never been able to deny him anything. She sighed, resigned, and nodded her head.

When their transaction was finished, and Hermione's new book was tucked safely in the depths of her bag, Harry led her out to the street with a gentle hand on her lower back, opening and holding the door for her to pass through. 

"Where's Draco?" she asked. 

"Inside holding our table. The Leaky is packed tonight."

As they walked to the pub, a group of rowdy wizards laughing and shoving each other turned the corner in front of them. Harry wrapped an arm around Hermione's hip, pressing her to his side to allow the men to pass without jostling her.

At the contact, Hermione felt a stirring in her belly. A lick of heat spurred on by Harry's touch and presence. They stepped inside the dark and smokey pub—a rather sensual setting, in Hermione's humble opinion, and perfect for her plans.

Harry led her to the far corner where Draco was seated at a small, round table. He stood when they arrived, waiting for Harry to pull out Hermione's chair and seat her before sitting down once again.

_ Such picture-perfect manners. _

Someone stopped by their table to drop off drinks—one of which was Hermione's favourite.

"I hope you don't mind that I ordered for you, love," Draco said, smiling at her with those perfect cheekbones while pushing a glass of rum and Coke towards her.

"You can order whatever you like if you're paying, Daddy Warbucks."

Harry barked out a laugh at that. Malfoy lifted an eyebrow, confusion on his face. "What?"

Hermione smirked. "You've never seen _ Annie_?"

He just blinked at her.

"Ah, right." She slid her gaze to Harry and leaned forward as if she were sharing a secret. "He's got that _ unfortunate _pure-blood deficit thing. It's a shame. You're really missing out on musicals, Malfoy."

Taking a sip of her drink, Hermione sat back in her chair. "Are we going to get food? I'm really craving chips."

"As long as you don't dip them in mustard again, you monster," Harry looked at her with a mock scowl on his face.

"Mustard is the condiment of the gods. You're just uncultured swine."

When Harry threw his head back and laughed, Hermione's eyes followed the line of his throat, an image of her kissing her way up to his jaw filling her mind.

_ Mmm_.

"Granger?"

"Hmm?"

"Anyone home?"

"Ha ha. I got lost in thought. Something I'm sure you wouldn't understand."

Hermione smirked at Malfoy, then headed to the bar to order their food and another round. When she returned, drinks and food in hand, she had an idea.

"Up for a little game, boys?"

She knew neither would say no to a challenge and wasn't surprised when Harry nodded, and Draco gestured for her to go on.

"It's simple, really. We take turns asking each other questions. When it's your turn, you either answer the question—_honestly_—or drink."

Harry scoffed. "Easy. I have nothing to hide."

_ That's what I'm hoping for. _

The smile that spread across her face felt a little shark-like, and she could only hope they picked up on what she was putting down.

"Great. Let's begin. Go on, ask me anything."

Malfoy and Harry shared a look across the table, and Malfoy spoke first.

"Have you ever cheated on a test? Even the smallest bit? Be honest, Miss Perfect."

She gasped, affronted by the question. "I can't believe you would think me capable of such a thing. I'm offended at the mere insinuation—"

"Hermione." Harry was looking at her with an amused expression and one eyebrow lifted in her general direction.

Hermione blew out a sigh. "Okay, fine. Yes, I have, but only once! And I had good reason."

Draco leaned back in his chair, folding his arms and saying, "Do tell."

"It wasn't on OWLs or NEWTs, I would never do it on that. But I may have fudged a bit on one of my Divination finals. I shouldn't have, and it was absolutely pointless anyway because I just dropped the class. In the end, I felt so awful that I told McGonagall what I'd done," she said. "The detention I served assuaged my guilt."

Draco shook his head and chuckled. "You are the only person I know who would snitch on themselves."

Hermione huffed and lifted her chin. "That's because _ I _know how to follow the rules."

"Ah, but only when it suits your cause, right?" Harry cast a pointed look in her direction. "Because I seem to remember you bending the rules often, as long as you could justify it in your head."

Hermione was a bit taken aback by Harry's astute observation. "Perhaps, but I never heard you or Ron complaining. I'd say you benefited from it, considering all the times I had to bail your arses out of something."

"Fair," Harry said, tipping his glass towards her. "All I'm saying is that you aren't the goodie-two-shoes everyone thinks you to be. It's not a flaw. You just know how to play dirty." His eyes darkened as he spoke, setting off desire in Hermione. 

"So dirty." She lifted her bottle to her lips and drank, tongue flicking out as she pulled it away, eyes on Harry's all the while. When his throat moved on a rough swallow, she cheered inwardly.

_ Point for me. _

"Alright, my turn," Hermione said. She wagged her finger at Draco, asking a leading question to lay the groundwork for her plan. "What's one sexual fantasy you have that you haven't tried yet but would like to?"

Draco whistled through his teeth. "You're not playing around," he laughed.

"Answer the question or drink, sir."

"Teacher/student. I have a thing for pleated skirts."

She pursed her lips and hummed. "Pretty tame, if you ask me."

"We are in public, sweetheart." Draco leaned forward until he was in her space. "Take me home, and I'll whisper each and every dirty thing I can think of in your ear."

By that point, they'd had a few drinks and were well on their way to pleasantly buzzed. Hermione was sure he was bluffing and wondered what might happen if she called him on it.

Before she could try, Harry broke the trance between them, saying, "I believe it's my turn to be questioned."

It was a hardship tearing her gaze away from Malfoy's, but Harry's handsome face soothed it somewhat. 

"If you had to sleep with one person at this table, who would it be?"

Harry feigned being lost in thought, then looked at Hermione with heat in his eyes. "Why limit myself to just one, hmm?" Malfoy smirked at that remark, and Hermione started to get the feeling that perhaps it wasn't just her that came here with a plan.

They played a few more rounds, and though none of them backed down from any questions, they continued to drink, losing inhibitions with each sip. At some point, Hermione decided that she would _ die _ if she couldn't dance right that minute, so she dragged Harry and Malfoy to her favourite club in Muggle London.

The music was loud and perfect. She pulled the boys with her to the dance floor, dancing to upbeat pop songs as they spun her in and out of their arms. 

After a while, the music switched to a sultry rhythm. Hermione moved between Harry and Malfoy, slow and smooth. Harry grabbed her by the hips and pulled her back into his chest, the two of them swaying together to the beat. She was pleasantly flushed from the alcohol, the dancing, and the company. When the next song began, she pulled out of Harry's arms and faced them both. 

"Take me home."

Malfoy and Harry started speaking at the same time. 

"'Mione, I'm not sure that's—" 

"Granger, we shouldn't—"

"Yes, _ we should_. If you two aren't up for it, fine, but don't you try to make a decision for me."

As she stood waiting for their answer, the two men looked at each other, sharing some sort of silent conversation before turning back to Hermione. She could tell from their expressions that they were going to acquiesce, so she placed a hand on both of their chests and said, "Your place or mine?"

* * *

When Hermione was next present in the land of the conscious, sunlight was streaming in through half-closed curtains. The surroundings were unfamiliar, and her head felt a little fuzzy. She yawned and stretched her arms, realizing that she wasn't alone in bed. She was pleasantly sandwiched between two warm, firm bodies.

The night before slowly came back to her. She remembered propositioning Harry and Malfoy and taking the Knight bus to Draco's swanky uptown flat. 

When the rest of last night's memories returned, she laughed under her breath. 

They'd had some fun with hands and mouths, ramping up to more when Hermione had suddenly decided she was knackered and demanded Malfoy escort her to his bedroom so she could sleep in the "probably ridiculously luxurious bed" she knew was there.

So much for the sensual seductress she'd tried to be. Honestly, it was probably better this way. She wanted to be fully awake and present for the upcoming events. 

She wanted to savour it.

Brushing tangled hair out of her eyes, Hermione took in the sleeping face before her. 

Silky blond hair partially covered closed eyes. Malfoy looked young and sweet, his striking features softened in slumber and so different from the smouldering appearance he'd sported last night. He relaxed in sleep, his guard let down in a way he rarely allowed during waking hours.

The throbbing in her head that was present when she’d first awoke had subsised somewhat, and it was go time. Deciding to start with Draco, Hermione kissed her way down his stomach, reaching over to run her nails lightly down Harry's abdomen. At her touch, the men started to stir, their hands caressing Hermione's body. 

"G' morning." Harry pressed his chest more firmly to her back, and she felt his words rumble through her.

Draco smirked at her through his sleep-mussed fringe. "Sufficiently rested now, are we?"

She rested her cheek against his stomach and looked up at him. "Indeed. And I was right; this bed _ is _ ridiculously opulent."

Malfoy lifted a hand to smooth her hair back, his touch soft and gentle. "Better be careful, or you'll get a taste for luxury and never want to go back to your boring, lumpy mattress."

Hermione nipped at his hipbone in response, thinking that she really wouldn't mind staying here—in this expensive bed—forever, as long as this was the company.

She felt hands grab her hips and adjust her until she was kneeling horizontal to Malfoy and Harry. 

She planted a kiss just below Draco's belly button, another at the junction of his thigh and hip, everywhere but the place she knew he wanted her mouth to be. As she reached her target destination, Harry pressed a palm to her lower back to get her to arch, canting her hips higher and allowing Harry to reach her centre.

Starting slow, Hermione wrapped her fingers around Draco's length, pressing a soft kiss to the head. Last night she had hoped she’d find herself here, with them, but the reality so much better than she imagined.

Hands and mouth moving in tandem, Hermione delighted in the sounds she was pulling from the man beneath her. When she felt the first touch of Harry's fingers against her, winding her up, she moaned around Draco's cock, creating vibrations as she sucked him. 

The gentle fingers that had been resting in her hair tightened just a bit around the strands, guiding her up and down. Right as she could feel Draco getting ever closer to orgasm, he fisted his hand in her hair to pull her off of him. As she pulled away from him to sit up, another set of hands roughened by hard work caressed her breasts, pinching and kneading in just the right places.

"We're not done yet, sweetheart." Harry's breath was moist against her ear, and he licked down the side of her jaw, fingers beneath her chin, turning her mouth to his. 

_ Fuck, he's still an excellent kisser. _

He devoured her, tongue sliding against hers as he slid his hand down her stomach, making her cry out when he pushed two fingers into her. When she scraped her teeth across his bottom lip, he made a rough sound in his throat. As he slowly thrust his fingers in and out, Harry kept her lower lip trapped between his teeth for just a moment, eliciting a whimper from her.

Hermione was shuffled around to lie on her back, Draco and Harry above her. Harry slid a hand around the back of her neck, thumb under her chin to kiss her again. When the kiss ended, the hand at her throat slid down her body, slowly—_so slowly_—fingers leaving a trail of fire along her skin, only to slip back into her.

She was distracted from the feel of Harry's mouth against her when Draco began to leave love bites along her collarbone, hands cupping her breasts. "Fuck, you have gorgeous tits, Granger." His words barely floated through her haze of pleasure, so focused was she on reaching her peak.

Somehow they both knew exactly how to touch her, where to put their mouths and how fast to pump their fingers. When Harry's tongue flicked rapidly back and forth over her clit, Hemione felt herself swiftly nearing the edge.

She was close, _ so damn close, _ body wound tight and eyes scrunched shut. When Harry gentled his movements, pulling back and treating her to only light touches, her eyes flew open in confusion and frustration to see Harry with an unnerving look on his face.

"You want to come?"

Hermione blinks, a little bit irritated by the very obvious question. "Are you serious? Of course, I do."

"Patience, "Mione. Delaying gratification can make the end result so much sweeter. Trust me, love. I'll make you feel so good. Can you be good for me?"

Hermione is startled by the pleased shiver that runs through her at his words. _ Yes, yes I'll be good for you, only for you, Harry. _ She'd not had a partner take the lead like this during sex, and she was finding that the idea of handing the reigns, and thus, responsibility, to someone else was not only a relief but a turn on. She said nothing as she thought it over. 

_ Okay. Lean in, Hermione. Try something new. _

She nodded slowly, earning a beatific smile from Harry at her acquiescence. 

Draco and Harry continue to wind her up but not let her crash. Draco was whispering dirty things in her ear, and she was nearly crying, out of her mind with want. It was too much—too much heat, too much _feeling. _ Certain that the lightest touch to her clit would set her off, she thrust her hips up, outright begging now and not giving a damn.

"Please. Please, Harry. I need to-I-ohhh fuck. Please!"

He finally, _ blessedly_, keeps his touch steady, thumb rubbing firmly over just the right spot. She felt Draco's teeth scrape down her throat as she came apart, pleasure consuming her from the inside out.

When she was coherent enough to open her eyes, she said, "Whoa."

Harry and Malfoy chuckled at her, a smug smile on Harry's face as he said, "Told you." 

When Draco moved to pull back, Hermione grabbed his shoulder, pulling him down for a kiss. He is softer with her than Harry was, gentle and sweet, but just as good.

Breaking the kiss, Hermione looked up at Draco through her eyelashes with what she hoped was a coy expression. "It's a long weekend, you know. And I have a list of things I want to try."

From somewhere beyond Draco's head, Hermione heard Harry laugh. "Of course you do. Wouldn't expect anything less, you obsessive little list-maker."

She blindly moved her hand around, finding the skin of Harry's forearm and giving it a pinch.

Quicker than she could blink, Draco grabbed her by the hips and flipped her onto her stomach, giving Harry ample room to smack her arse.

She gasped at the sensation, just enough of a sting to spark need low in her belly. Hermione twisted her head back to look Malfoy in the eyes. "Traitor."

"Don't be naughty next time and I won't have to be."

She stuck her tongue out at him, and he laughed. 

Once she'd caught her breath, Harry shifted her a bit, so her head rested on the edge of the bed. Draco moved over her, one hand on the bed next to her hip, the other lining himself up and pushing into her. They both groaned at the feeling, so good and right.

Harry cupped Hermione's face and told her exactly what he wanted her to do with her mouth, setting her aflame once more. She wanted—_needed_—to reciprocate the pleasure he had brought her, and she was overwhelmed by sensation—both of them at once was even better than she had imagined—floating in a haze of bliss.

By the time Monday rolled around, Hermione had checked several items off of her list and even learned a few new things. 

As they spent their last afternoon together being lazy in bed, Hermione decided that curling up in two sets of arms was something she could get used to. Pressing her face into Harry's firm chest, she inhaled deeply, loving the scent of his skin. 

Under the guise of getting more comfortable, she wiggled back, just a bit, just enough to brush her arse against the hard body behind her.

_ Mmmm_.

Her plan had been a success. She was quite pleased with herself for picking these particular wizards for this endeavour—Harry and Draco were excellent teachers.

After all, there was nothing Hermione liked more than learning. Especially hands-on—she found she retained it better that way.

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot sparked a multichapter that I have begun posting. We are on chapter 3! If you're interested, you can find it in my works under "Come Together."


End file.
